Question Marks
by DrawMeASheep
Summary: Post Capitol Offense Tiva office banter.


Disclaimer: Spam, egg, bacon and spam.

Spoilers: Minor for _Capitol Offense_, not safe for season 6.

Summary: Tony is being DiNosey. And possibly jealous. Tiva-esque.

* * *

Tony angled his computer screen so he could watch and type. Things were getting weirder by the day and teasing McGee about Cupcake-Gate had gotten old surprisingly fast, even if he had successfully guilted McGee into ordering a salad for lunch the past two days. Now he was left with a pile of paperwork and some unanswered questions that promised to nag him until someone stole Abby's new cupcake and he was scraped for more DNA the agency already had on file.

Ziva suddenly cleared her throat in a very noticeable way, so Tony propped up a folder in front of his keyboard and scooted down in his seat, doubling the speed at which he was causing nonsense to appear on the white screen he wasn't looking at. She didn't let it go for long. "What?"

He held up his hands innocently. "What?"

"You are staring at me and pretending to type."

"Who says I'm pretending? I've got over," he glanced at the bar on the bottom of the screen, "two pages written!"

"You cannot type that fast."

"How do you know I didn't take a typing class while you were gone?"

"Because we have both been back for several weeks and you have shown no evidence of improved typing."

"Uh…correspondence course?"

She didn't take the bait and request a definition like he'd hoped. "You haven't answered my question."

"And you haven't told me why you really stayed with Abby, so let's call it even. Feel like a pizza?"

He was rewarded with an offended look rather than an offer to chip in. "I told you that my building was…"

"Yeah, yeah, bug bombed." He jammed his finger on the backspace button and watched all his efforts disappear into blinking oblivion. "I meant why did you _ask_ Abby."

"What difference does it make?"

"Well, we're partners." He leaned back in his seat and put his feet up. "You could have asked me."

She knitted her eyebrows. "Because we are partners I have to ask your permission to stay at Abby's for the night?"

"No, I meant…forget it. Pizza?"

"You are unbelievable. Is your desire for control really so big that you want me to tell you everything that I do? Would you like me to file a report with you every morning?"

"It'd save some time," he replied, but she didn't seem to appreciate his semi-sarcasm. "I was just wondering why you didn't ask to stay with me if you needed a place to sleep for the night."

"Because I _know_ you." Mercifully, she grinned. "Besides, Abby offered when I happened to mention that I had to find a place to spend the night."

"So all the hugging is just…"

"Abby is my friend."

He found that he wasn't able to take the joke any further. "She was your friend before."

"Well…I missed her."

"But you didn't miss me?" He pouted, giving her his best puppy-dog eyes and wondering how he'd managed to direct the conversation into these dangerous waters.

She didn't answer until she had walked across the aisle and pushed his feet down so she could perch on the corner of his desk. "Why would you think that?"

"I didn't get a hug."

To his surprise, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a brief squeeze. "I did miss you, strange as it may sound."

His arms remained immobile in his lap, not able to respond to the urgent commands his brain was sending to grab her before she…too late. Before she could leave her seat on his desk, he murmured, "I missed you." She smiled and broke eye contact. He settled his hands on his desk with one just close enough to be contact with the fabric of her pants, feeling her body heat. "Y'know, if you'd stayed at my place, you could have slept in the bed."

Her smile got wider as she turned back to him. "You would have taken the couch?"

"No, I would have taken the other side of the bed."

She rolled her eyes as she stood and walked back toward her desk. He followed, saying, "It's a king-size bed! Hey, you should take it as a compliment, considering I know how bad you snore."

"Oh, you should talk," she said, spinning on her heel. "This is why I didn't even ask if I could stay with you."

"Because you didn't want to disturb me with your nocturnal rhinoceros impression?"

"Because I knew you would…would…"

He decided to take the high road while it was still available. "Ziva, we're both adults. There's no reason we couldn't spend a night in the same bed without something happening." Her quizzical look prompted him to add optimistically, "Is there?"

"I am not sure. There were too many conflicting thoughts in your statement. Were you trying to say that we could spend a night together without having sex?" He felt his brain get fuzzy for what was apparently a long enough time for them both to return to his desk and for her to shout, "Tony!"

"Sorry. You said my favorite word and I remembered…" he trailed off, realizing that there wasn't anything real to remember. Fantasies, naturally, and one slightly less than professional night in a hotel, but other than that… He unconsciously pulled out his top drawer for a look at…

"Why do you still have those pictures?" Ziva demanded.

He shoved the drawer closed before she could take them. "Hey, those got me through some lonely months."

Her jaw dropped. "You had them up in your _office_!"

"Not like that!" he protested, not wanting her getting too close to the truth. "I just meant it was nice to see a friendly face!"

"And a friendly ass?"

He looked up at her and grinned. "That was also nice."

"Pig."

"Nope, too late. You already admitted you missed me." When she didn't argue, he continued, "While we're answering questions, what's with the dress in your backpack?"

She rolled her eyes. "I forgot to take it out when I got home the other day. When did you have a chance to go through it?"

"You were in the men's room. Really, though." His voice slipped into a slightly higher register as he asked, "Did you have a date?"

"I have not had a date since…" Her usual confidence was abruptly replaced by awkward twitching. "Never mind."

He strained against his first impulse, forcing himself not to ask for further details. As much as he wanted to know, he sometimes wondered if he didn't. He swallowed hard. "Well, there's no reason my favorite bikini model should be staying home alone every night."

"I did not say…"

He interrupted before she could get too insulted, "That was my suave way of asking you if you want to have dinner with me tonight, maybe go to a movie. I've been trying to get caught up and I think I may be in over my head. We could even do an early movie, then dinner, then a late show." When she didn't answer, he amended, "One movie is probably enough between friends. If we fill up on popcorn…"

"Dinner sounds nice," she finally said.

He nodded and smiled, letting out the breath he'd been holding. "Okay. And if you need a place to sleep…"

"Tony," she started in a warning tone.

He continued, "You can still have the bed and I'll take the couch."

Gibbs suddenly stormed into the room. "Have you two finished your reports yet?"

"We are working on…"

He cut Ziva off, "And where the hell is McGee?"

"He is in the…" Gibbs was already striding out of the bullpen when she quietly finished, "lab." When he had entered the elevator and the doors had closed safely behind him, she turned back to Tony with some concern. "He is still upset."

"I think this one is gonna take some time."

She nodded and they quietly returned to their computers. After a few minutes and a single quick peek into his top drawer, Tony ventured, "It _is_ a king-size bed…"


End file.
